carbine and could reconstruct the whole, terrible drama that had been enacted here without audience and without hope. It was clear that the tiger had suddenly attacked Rikoff, so that he had no time to shoot but had struck the beast with the stock of his carbine and broken it. Over a large area we found traces of an inexorable fight—trampled ground and coagulated blood on leaves and grass that marked the trail of the Cossack's last, tragic journey.
We were already preparing to raise him up and place him on one of the horses, when Lisvienko stopped thoughtfully and asked:
"But why is his knife still by his hand? Pie was not the one to leave an enemy free when holding a knife in his hand. I want to have a further look about this place."
Saying this, he made a sign to one of the Cossacks, and the two of them, with their rifles ready, walked away. As the other Cossack and the beggar were helping me fasten the body of Rikoff on the spare horse, I could see the caps of Lisvienko and his mate moving among the bushes. It was only a moment, however, before they both disappeared and shortly afterwards shouted to us to come and join them. I snatched my carbine and ran to them. What I saw surpassed anything I could have imagined. In a little forest meadow on trampled, tall grass lay the body of the tiger. His hide was pierced in several places with deep knife wounds and it was evident that he had been dead for a few days. When the Cossacks turned him over, I saw clearly enough what had ended the fight. His belly was slit and part of his entrails were on the grass. Palpably, after having lost so much blood from all his wounds, he left the arena and dragged himself away from his adversary, who, with his joints broken and his skull smashed by the terrible teeth,
